EVASION

“In a separation it is the one who is not really in love who says the more tender things.” – Marcel Proust

A poem written many years ago when I was coping with a parting of ways, an ending and a separation that was predestined even from before the union that begat it. “Evasion” seems an odd title on first reading, but think about it…

Evasion

My emotions leave me
Deserting the confines of the walls of my heart;
In single file they abandon me
Responding to your wily invitation.
And I – I feel empty, deluded and betrayed.

My every thought scatters,
Escaping from the cramped prison of my mind
In heterogenous gangs they escape, run
Behind you, flying, following you.
And I – I’m arid, solitary, desolate.

My few joys disappear,
Away from my life they vanish;
They fade like the few luminous gleams
Of the last firework.
And I – I’m in the darkness, sad, dejected, melancholy.

My hopes run away from me,
They fly like delicate, blue butterflies.
My soul, a bare little box
Containing only the emptiness of despair,
A zero, a null void, a barren waste;
And I – I can feel nothing now.

Without you, in my torment,
I’m only a carcass
Without hopes, joys, thoughts or feelings.